Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place' (4 page)

Chris replied warily, “I
always
do
-
why?”

“
I just wanted to make sure you
have it. We have a party aboard the Fourniere's yacht our first
night in port.” He glanced at Abigail with a wink and a hint of a
smile and added, “One of many, I might add.”

“
Many
what
?”

Walter’s eyes widened with surprise, and then
creased in concern. “I thought you knew.” Puzzled now, he turned to
Abigail and queried, “I thought he knew...”

Abigail stared blankly back at Walter and raised her
hands in defense as if to distance herself from this line of
questioning, and Walter turned back to Chris with a note of genuine
enthusiasm, “You're gonna love it! Gabriel and I dreamed up the
idea months ago…” Walter crossed briskly to the antique globe and
began to slowly spin it, admiring his world as it lazily revolved
beneath his scrutiny. Stopping with his gaze locked on the
Caribbean, he gestured to the glittering sphere and continued
almost theatrically, “Imagine, a pirates' convention, all the
shippers sailing as one! Play by day, party by night. We start at
Hamilton, and just kind of 'make the rounds'. Cocktail parties
every night- great food, gorgeous women. Fish, swim, golf, gamble,
a different island every other day- the works…” And then he paused,
his previous enthusiasm changing to a more serious tone as he
turned from the globe to face Chris. “Son, It's time you opened the
next chapter of your life. Time you met some people, people with
whom you'll be forming partnerships for the rest of your life…”

Chris suddenly stiffened as he realized what all
this was leading towards and declared with alarm, “Oh my God! No
way! I know what you're really doing! You’re trying to set me up
with Evangeline again! This whole thing is actually just a ruse for
some twisted type of arranged marriage!”

Abigail answered defensively, “But- Evie's a lovely
girl!”

Chris countered sarcastically, “The best that money
can buy.”

“
Christopher!” Abigail replied
tersely, clearly offended at Chris’ callous comment. And then she
continued, almost cajolingly, “We just thought you… got along.
Nothing more…” She smiled thoughtfully and then added, “Though I
must admit, you do look good together!”

Chris rolled his eyes toward the
ceiling in exasperation, “God! Mother! Are you serious? That is so-
medieval. And here I thought family empires were
so
last century!” Chris
slowly turned to Walter and declared, “Dad, I am
not
spending my final
summer of freedom aboard a stupid boat 'making the rounds'!” He
glanced sidelong toward the globe, which he had now taken in both
hands and was spinning idly, grimly contemplating the future that
it held. His gaze rose slowly to the window and then focused
outward on the vast blue sky beyond.

Walter was apparently caught off-guard by his
failure to win Chris’ approval for his machinations and sputtered,
“But- plans have been made, people are expecting-!”

Chris interrupted flatly, a single word resonating
in the room.

“
No.”

Out in the main hall, the music suddenly skipped- as
if the musicians had collectively missed a note, and a crashing
tinkle of sound, a wineglass breaking, punctuated Chris’
monosyllabic word of denial.

Walter, his face reddening alarmingly, said sharply,
“No?! What the hell do you mean-‘no’?”

Chris released his hands from the globe and raised
them imploringly to the sky. He whirled on his father and cried,
“Which part of-? God dammit, I just mean 'NO'!”

Walter took a long moment to calm
his ire with a sip of his drink and a slow intake of breath and
then countered, “’No' is really not an option, son. I decided-
Uh...” he looked to Abigail for backup, received none, and
continued, “...
we
decided this quite a while ago. Arrangements have been
made-”

Chris interrupted explosively, a
storm of emotion rising on every word, “Oh-My-God! You haven't
heard a single
fucking
word I said. It never changes. It never has. Do you know, for
as long as I can remember, you have never
once
listened to
me
, to what
I
wanted? Ever?! Do you know that my
earliest memories are of all the things I
couldn't
do? Not the things I did,
oh no, not the happy memories of childhood. Nope, my memories
consist of all the times you denied me a life of my own.” He held
up a hand and shook his head, interrupting the anticipated rebuttal
from his father and continued, “And now, I'm done! I've had it!
After everything I've done, after
all
the things I went through to
become all that
you
wanted me to be- All I want, all
I
want, is to be able to make one
simple choice for the rest of my miserable life!” Chris paused in
his tirade, unable to continue- he just didn’t have it in himself
to be mean. He looked to his father for a reaction, but Walter
merely stared back, his face a mask of stone, so he continued, his
demeanor changing softly from angry to conciliatory. “Look, Dad-
I'll make a deal with you... You give me this
one thing-
just one- and I promise I
will love, honor and obey whatever future you have planned for me-
deal?”

Walter’s silence was his response.

Chris hesitated, trying to outlast
his father’s stubbornness, and then he sighed in defeat and
conceded, “Okay, fine, I'll take that as a 'yes'.” He turned back
to the globe and began to slowly turn it about its’ axis,
inspecting its dazzlingly bejeweled surface with a look of
determined consideration. After a moment he abruptly stilled the
glittering sphere, his gaze hovering over the islands of the
Caribbean, and he was suddenly struck with an idea. “Okay, Dad,
I’ll tell you what. I'll even make this a little more interesting.
Let's play a variation of 'Russian roulette'...” Chris quickly
untied and snatched the regimental tie from around his neck and
re-tied it over his eyes like a blindfold. He lifted his chin into
the afternoon light as he began to blindly spin the antique globe
and continued, “If I pick the Caribbean, or...” he shrugged, “Oh,
hey, what the hell, I'm feeling generous- I'll even give you
the
entire
Mediterranean- either one of those, you get your way. But if
I choose anything else-
anything
- Macchu Picchu, Bora Bora,
whatever, wherever, that's it, that’s where we're going!
Okay?”

Walter sputtered, “But- DAMMIT! I
can't just…” His shoulders sagged with defeat, and he replied with
angry resignation, “…fine. What
ever
.”

“
All righty then, here we go…”
Chris gave the globe a savage spin, whirling the glittering surface
in an almost dizzying flash of color. He held his right index
finger above it apprehensively- hesitating, tentative, waiting for
just the right moment to choose his destiny, muttering softly,
“'Round and 'round she goes- and where she stops…” And then he
jabbed his finger decisively at the whirling sphere and brought it
to a screeching halt.

Walter gazed down obliquely at Chris' finger on the
globe and then began to chuckle as he looked away with a derisive
snort of victory. “Ha! Hope you brought your swim trunks.”

Chris slowly peeled the impromptu blindfold from one
eye and looked with trepidation at the glittering sphere, where to
his heart-sinking dismay he saw his fingertip resting in the middle
of an immense ocean of turquoise, the inlaid brass cross-hairs
isolating a section of uninterrupted blue. Slowly, almost
fearfully, he lifted his hand away, only to reveal to his delight
the deep green and blood-flecked hues of Jasper that were the
Hawaiian Islands, the tiny gems glittering in the shaft of sunlight
that streamed from the window. Chris straightened and turned
triumphantly to confront his father- only to see his back, for
Walter was already on his way out the door.

Walter brushed brusquely past
Abigail and addressed her with almost callous dismissal as he
departed, “Abby, I wash my hands of this-
you
make the arrangements... I'll be
in the car.” And with that he stormed through the archway, angrily
snapping open a cell phone as he bulled his way through the crowded
room.

Abigail gaped in stunned silence at the back of
Walter as he disappeared into the crowd. And then she slowly turned
back to Chris, a wry smile slowly spreading across her face like
the rising of the sun, a barely suppressed giggle issuing from her
lips. Chris’ face twisted into a bemused smirk of his own, a
singular dimple appearing on one cheek, and then he slowly turned
from his mother and swung his gaze back out the window, basking in
the glow of the late afternoon sun, contemplating his fate in the
periwinkle light.

The Boeing ‘Triple-seven’ descended almost silently
through the pink-and gold-tinged clouds, bits and pieces of vivid
viridian, intensely blue cobalt, vibrant turquoise and bright amber
gold teasing magical glimpses of the island of O’ahu below.

From his window seat in the front
of the lushly appointed first class cabin, Chris brought his gaze
back into the plane with a look of smug satisfaction and shot a
sidelong wink of acknowledgement to his mother. Abigail returned
his wink with one of her own, grateful that through his random act
of rebellion she had been serendipitously handed the reins of
planning the trip of her dreams, a lavish voyage reminiscent of
another time, to an exotic place she had always dreamed of, in a
luxurious conveyance of
her
choosing, one decidedly more enjoyable than the
cold, sterile confines of the Walter’s ‘strictly business’
corporate jet.

Chris sighed serenely and turned
his attentions back to the jumble of pamphlets, travel brochures
and in-flight magazines sprawled on the table before him. As he
idly twiddled the glittering golden card he had so recently
liberated from his cousin, he scanned the smorgasbord of action and
adventure that he had in front of him and grinned broadly with
anticipation of the coming days; Surfing, Glider flights, Mountain
Biking, Scuba- the
works
. He smiled crookedly at the
irony of his own interpretation of his father’s words and casually
flipped a page of the magazine that lay to his right. A splashy ad
for a car rental company showed a bright red Mustang convertible
flying down a coastal highway. With another satisfied sigh and a
contented smile, Chris closed his eyes and tapped the button that
transformed his generous seat into a lush chaise, folding his hands
behind his head as he imagined himself behind the wheel, the warm
sun on his face and a fragrant breeze in his hair.

From her own seat just adjacent to
Chris, Abigail watched her son with a combination of warm affection
and a hint of wry amusement as she reclined herself, closing her
eyes and nodding her head gently to the sweet tenor voice of the
island singer Iz crooning 'Over the Rainbow’ in her ears,
envisioning herself luxuriating in glorious sunshine mere hours
from now, a Mai-tai in her hand and the tang of ocean breeze on her
cheeks. As she became absorbed in the daydream and immersed in the
music she wondered absently if there wasn’t perhaps some kernel of
universal truth to the lyrics- that maybe she was indeed travelling
to a truly magical place; a place where dreams really
do
come true, and again
she pondered the truly miraculous events that had culminated in
this, an
actual
dream come true.

Walter glared across the aisle at
the two relaxed souls beside him, agitated and busy with his laptop
and the in-seat phone simultaneously, and then continued the heated
discussion he was having with an unseen individual, “Dammit Carl, I
don't
care
what
it takes, just get it done! Fine! I'll sign them when I get back,
just have it ready and a notary on hand.” He paused as he listened
and then exploded with anger, “No, I will not change my mind! That
episode at the Club was the last straw. He can
earn
himself back into my good
graces, but until he does- not a dime, not a penny, not a sheckle!
He humiliated me with that outburst and nearly
destroyed-!”

Walter’s rant was rudely interrupted by the
crackling voice of the plane’s pilot over the speakers. “Ladies and
gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent into Honolulu
International. At this time, I would like to thank you for flying
with Aloha airlines, and request that all electronic equipment be
turned off for landing.” Walter halted in his tirade, his lips
pursing whitely in consternation until the pilot finished his
announcement, and then he returned to his conversation with a
snarl, “Dammit! Okay, Carl. I gotta go, we're about to- I'll call
you back after we land! Yes, Carl, I know! It can wait for thirty
minutes! Okay? Carl…?” Walter stared malevolently at the phone, the
conversation now dead in his hands and he slammed it into the
receiver with a terse and pointless, “Goodbye!”